


they're fools, but they're each other's fools

by Anonymous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff I guess, M/M, POV Alternating, i meant for it to be creepy but instead its fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:53:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21924730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: My entry for the winter exchange! I meant for it to be kinda creepier and have more violence but I lost control and instead this is mostly fluff, sorry meowcula I tried my best! There's technically reciprocated stalking and a little bit of yandere if you squint really hard. I hope you like it anyways!
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Comments: 21
Kudos: 218
Collections: Anonymous, Chamber of Secrets' Winter Exchange (2019)





	they're fools, but they're each other's fools

“Mate, I don’t know why you don’t just ask him out,” Ron sighed, looking at Harry with pity.

Harry, who was firmly cocooned within a vortex of blankets on his bed, shook his head despondently. “I can’t just  _ ask him out.  _ Do you know how many people have tried to ask Tom Riddle out before? I do! 91! How am I any different?”

“He’s your soulmate,” Ron pointed out.

“But he doesn’t  _ know _ that,” Harry complained. “What if he says no because he thinks he’s someone else’s?”

“You could tell him,” Ron suggested, for what felt like the millionth time. Harry’s look of doubt told Ron that that wasn’t an option.

“I can’t,” Harry said, “Because he wouldn’t be able to see my mark anyways. People have tried to claim he was their soulmate before, you know.”

“So?” Ron asked. “I’ll vouch for you.”

Ron privately thought that anyone would vouch for it, if only to get Harry to stop moping around and jinxing anyone he thought was looking at Riddle the wrong way. Even the professors were clearly getting tired of lecturing Harry about the no-jinxing-in-the-hallways rule. After all, taking points away or giving detentions clearly wasn’t stopping Harry.

“Blaise vouched for Draco,” Harry said. “Tom still said no. What if he says no to me?”

_ Then maybe you’ll finally move on, _ Ron thought privately, but the other boy knew by this point that telling Harry to get over Tom Fucking Riddle was akin to telling him to cut out his own heart. The reason Harry was wallowing  _ now _ was because Tom had failed to notice Harry’s most recent attempt to catch his eye— that being leaving a very expensive gift outside of the Slytherin common room labelled ‘for Tom. From, a friend.’

‘A friend’ is what Harry had gone with, and then he’d had the audacity to wallow about Riddle not figuring out who it was.

“Maybe you could do some… rumour spreading, or something,” Ron said, a final bid to get Harry out of his slump. “You know, spread the word that you have a mark that fits Riddle. So that he’ll believe you when you tell him.”

If he ever did.

Harry’s nose crinkled. “That’s so  _ Slytherin,”  _ Harry grumbled, but he was considering it nonetheless, lips pursed in thought as he considered how that would work.

“Well, Riddle’s a Slytherin,” Ron said. “He’d probably like it.”

Harry sighed. “I suppose,” he said, and to Ron’s confusion, wiggled out of his blanket cocoon and began getting dressed.Riddle 

“Harry, wait,” Ron said, alarmed. “What are you doing?”

“Getting dressed,” Harry said. “I want to get started right away.”

“It’s midnight,” Ron said. “Nobody will even be awake.”

“Oh, right.”

Harry flopped back down onto his bed. Ron bit back a laugh of disbelief at his best friend’s thoughtlessness. Whenever Riddle was involved, Harry seemed to lose all of his brain cells.

“D’you reckon your thing for Riddle is a tad obsessive, Harry?” Ron asked tentatively.

“How is it obsessive?” Harry asked. He didn’t sound one whit like he was joking.

“Seriously?” Ron asked. “Just last week you cursed Lestrange into a coma for three days. Don’t you think you’re going a bit overboard?”

“No,” Harry said immediately, turning to glare at Ron. “Rodolphus deserved it. He was going to ask his father for a  _ betrothal!  _ To  _ Tom!” _

“Do you think maybe Tom would have accepted, though?” Ron asked, and regretted it immediately when Harry’s expression twisted into one of mixed fear and rage.

“No way,” Harry said viciously. “He must know that Rodolphus is below him. We’re fated, remember?”

He pulled back his sleeve to brandish the mark on the inside of his forearm emphatically. The snake was shaken awake and out of the skull, seeming to fall into Harry’s palm, curling up into a strike position.

“Sorry, Nagini,” Harry said.

Right. Ron had forgotten that Harry had named his soul mark after Riddle’s pet snake.

“Alright, alright,” Ron said, looking at the snake, which was slithering backup Harry’s arm. “Just… make sure nobody is permanently hurt.”

“As long as they stay away from Tom, nobody has to get hurt at all,” Harry said grumpily. “They should stick to their own soulmates.”

“Not everyone has a soulmark to figure it out, Harry,” Ron pointed out.  _ He _ didn’t.

“Well, they should still know to stay away from  _ my _ soulmate,” Harry said, and rolled his sleeve back down. “It’s not  _ my _ fault that they can’t keep their sticky fingers to themselves.”

With that, Harry rolled away from Ron, pulling the bed hangings around his bed.

Ron shook his head and collapsed back into his pillows. He didn’t understand why Harry didn’t just tell Riddle. Surely, if Riddle was really his soulmate, Riddle would know that Harry was telling the truth.

Oh well. It was Harry’s problem.

* * *

“Harry didn’t even look at me in Potions today, Abraxas. What did I do wrong?”

Abraxas Malfoy was tired. He was tired of studying for O.W.L.s that he knew he wouldn’t pass. He was tired of eating the same month’s worth of food, for twelve months in a row. He was tired of remaining perfectly composed at all times.

He was  _ especially _ tired of Tom Riddle keeping him up until midnight talking about Harry Fucking Potter.

“I don’t know, Tom,” Abraxas said. “Maybe it’s because you ignored the gift he gave you.”

Tom fell silent for a few blessed moments.

“What?”

“The gift you got today,” Abraxas said, struggling to remain calm and patient in the face of Tom’s utter idiocy. “It was from Potter. You ignored it completely.”

“It was from  _ Harry?” _ Tom asked, sounding utterly shocked.

“Who else would it be from, Tom?” Abraxas sighed. Everyone at Hogwarts knew that Harry Potter has a massive, obsessive crush on Tom, even going as far as claiming Tom was his soulmate.

Everyone knew except Tom himself, that was. Somehow.

“It was signed a friend!” Tom exclaimed. “Harry’s not my friend. He’s…” Tom sighed. “He’s my soulmate.”

“Does  _ he _ know that?” Abraxas asked.

“Of course! Every time someone courts me, I reject them. Firmly. And make sure to mention  _ very loudly _ that nobody who wanted to date me could possibly be up to standard. You know, dropping hints that I’m available,” Tom explained.

_ Bloody hell. _

“Do you maybe think that he could take that to mean that  _ he _ isn’t up to standard, either?”

Tom was silent for much longer this time. Abraxas rolled over in bed to look at him. Previously, he’d been pacing back and forth. Now he was frozen, his mouth parted in surprise, brow furrowed in intense thought.

“No,” Tom muttered to himself. “He couldn’t possibly…”

“Have you ever  _ told him _ that he’s exempt from that statement?” Abraxas asked.

“Yes,” Tom said, sounding hesitant. “I told him that he’s not the same as everyone else who has courted me.”

“Harry Potter is the most insecure person at Hogwarts,” Abraxas sighed. “He definitely took this to mean that he’s  _ worse _ than everyone else.”

Tom looked like he’d just walked directly into a pole. “What?”

He sounded baffled. Abraxas couldn’t help but shake his head, a mixture of fond exasperation and complete frustration, that the Dumbledore of their times, the smartest bloke in all of Hogwarts, could possibly be so bloody opaque.

“Harry probably thinks you ignored his gift because you hate him,” Abraxas said bluntly. “Not because you didn’t think it was from him. He’s not smart enough to realize your true reason.”

“Harry’s smart,” Tom protested, but even  _ he _ had to admit that Abraxas was probably right. Harry was never pompous or over-inflated. That was part of what Tom loved about him… and Harry didn’t even know. “Abraxas, what should I do?”

“Merlin, Tom, I don’t know,” Abraxas said, his frustration finally spilling over. “Talk to him. Tell him about your soulmark.”

“I can’t,” Tom said. “He can’t see it. Besides, who would believe that I have my soulmate’s patronus as my mark? That only happens in children’s books.”

“It’s his patronus and a  _ snake, _ Tom,” Abraxas said. “How much more obvious could it be?”

“He won’t believe me,” Tom said firmly, shaking his head. “Nobody would. Besides, what if he doesn’t have  _ my _ mark? What if he doesn’t have a mark at all? That’s much more common.”

“Just ask him,” Abraxas said.

“I can’t just ask him what his mark is, that’s personal,” Tom protested immediately.

_ “Merlin,  _ Tom, I don’t know what you want me to say,” Abraxas sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Merlin. Abraxas wished he could give Tom the wakeup call he bloody deserved. Unfortunately, this would most likely end with Abraxas getting badly cursed. So he held his tongue, and thought carefully.

“Perhaps you could approach him slowly,” Abraxas suggested. “Hint at what your mark is, so that he’ll figure it out, and then he can confirm whether his matches you.”

Tom pursed his lips. “That could have positive results,” he admitted. “I will have to be very Gryffindor about it.”

“Gryffindor about it? You’ll just be talking to him, right? Not… duelling him or something.”

Tom scoffed. “Why would I duel him?”

“Then what’s Gryffindor about it?” Abraxas asked, baffled.

“Well, there will be no convincing or blackmail about it.”

_ Is that what you think being a Gryffindor is? Being a normal person? _

“I suppose there will still be an ulterior motive,” Tom added thoughtfully, and seemed much more cheerful at the prospect.

“Yes, Tom,” Abraxas said.

Merlin, he was  _ so tired. _

* * *

Harry arrived in the Great Hall between 8:00 and 8:30 AM.

Harry sat at the very end of the Gryffindor table, next to Ron Weasley and across from Hermione Granger.

Harry usually ate waffles for breakfast, but sometimes he ate only fruit.

Harry had Transfiguration, Potions, and Charms with the Slytherins.

Harry had DADA and Herbology with the Hufflepuffs.

Harry had lunch during the second lunch block on Monday, and the first every other day of the week.

Harry presumably spent most of his evenings in the Gryffindor dorms.

Harry rarely went to the library. When he did, it was because Hermione Granger dragged him there.

Harry spent his most of his weekends at Hogsmeade.

Harry had private tutoring with Professor Lupin on Sundays at 4:00PM. He seems to spend more time chatting than learning.

These are the things that Tom had learned over a month of discreetly following Harry around, or having his Knights follow Harry for him. It was surprisingly hard to follow Harry without him noticing. He always seemed to know when someone was near.

It made Tom’s endeavours to memorize his schedule much harder then Tom had expected. Still, for Harry, it was worth it. Tom spent more time Disallusioned than he cared for— it felt like he was taking a very cold shower every time he disappeared— but it was hardly a sacrifice. Not when it was all working to the end of Harry with Tom, forever.

Abraxas kept asking when Tom was going to actually talk to Harry. Tom had an inkling that Abraxas was simply tired of following Harry for him.

It was late autumn before Tom decided to establish a connection. He figured that if he and Harry were comfortable talking by the holiday break, Tom would be able to prod Harry for knowledge of his soulmark while most of the student body was gone.

Unfortunately for Tom, Harry didn’t spend much time in the library, so Tom’s opportunities to play off an encounter as coincidental were slim.

Tom figured that his best chance to strike a conversation with Harry were on Tuesdays and Thursday, during their morning double potions classes.

Harry typically sat next to the Weasley boy, to disastrous results. Tom usually sat next to Rodolphus, but the older of the Lestrange brothers had been avoiding Tom as of late. Tom still wasn’t sure why, but he wasn’t particularly bothered. As long as Rodolphus kept his mouth properly shut.

“Can I sit here?”

Harry’s head jerked up when Tom stopped in front of his desk.

“Oh. I, er, Ron usually sits there…” Harry muttered.

Tom’s heart dropped.

“No worries,” Tom said, smiling blandly and turning away. “I’m sure I can find somewhere else to sit.”

“No!” Harry exclaimed. Hope rekindled in Tom’s chest, and he turned back around, trying to keep a pathetically victorious smile off his face. “You can sit next to me.”

“Thank you, Harry,” Tom said, smiling. He hoped it was friendly and not lovestruck. Harry didn’t answer, choosing instead to just nod.

When Weasley came into the class, he looked at Tom was confusion. Tom stared back at him defiantly, daring him to tell him to move.

Weasley sat next to Granger.

Slughorn was as boring and tedious of a professor as usual. He spoke with grandiosity and assigned the potion to be made, and then he disappeared to go drink firewhiskey in his office, as usual.

“Do you like potions very much?” Tom asked quietly as Harry went about setting up his cauldron.

“It’s fine,” Harry replied. He didn’t look at Tom, and Tom found himself disappointed by the fact that Harry seemed to be avoiding his gaze. Harry had very pretty eyes.

“You prefer another class?” Tom asked. He desperately hoped that they would not fall into awkward silence. And Tom would be nothing if he were unable to make people speak, when they perhaps didn’t want to.

“I like Defence,” Harry said. “It’s not as strict. Potions is just like.. More dangerous cooking, I suppose.”

“Defence is a nice class,” Tom agreed, and he wasn’t even lying. “I like the tranquility of making potions. I take it you prefer action.”

“I’m  _ better _ at action,” Harry said, with a small laugh.

Tom smiled. It was a minor success, but a success nonetheless.

Tom thought back to the gift Harry had gotten for him. It had been a rather nice quill, sharp and pristine, but impersonal. Not like Harry at all. Tom had figured it had been one of the hopeless Hufflepuff girls who took his kindness as interest, and while he hadn’t thrown it out (because that would be a perfect waste), he hadn’t intended to ever use it in class. Perhaps now he would, once he could confirm that the gift was indeed from Harry.

“I suppose you’d rather do the mixing than the ingredient measuring, then?” Tom asked. “The more action-packed part of dangerous cooking.”

“Whichever is better for you,” Harry said. 

This was good. Tom liked being in charge, and he liked the idea of helping Harry. It was two birds with one stone.

“Why don’t you measure and prepare, then,” Tom said. “I can help you with the specifics, there are a few tricks I know that aren’t in the textbook.”

* * *

Harry was weighing the pros and cons of allowing himself to be caught out of bounds by Lavender Brown. While mostly friendly, Brown was known as the school gossip, and would almost certainly spread the word of Harry’s soulmark if he showed her. It would, however, result in Harry getting detention, which Dumbledore had warned would result in a termination of Harry’s sanctioned meetings Remus. He had been getting into too much trouble in his efforts to keep Tom to himself.

Harry had been mentallly bidding Remus a temporary farewell when Tom had asked to sit next to Harry in Potions.

Harry’s throat had instantly gone dry, and he’d struggled to find the words with which to tell Tom that he was welcome anywhere, at any time. He’d almost buggered it when, in complete and utter shock, he’d almost turned him away by complete accident. Harry was only grateful that Tom was so friendly, and so happy to do most of the speaking. It spoke to his charm, that he was able to make Harry forget about his nearly debilitating crush on him.

“I think this is the first time I’ve made a potion perfectly,” Harry said at the end of the class, as he bottled the potion into several crystal vials.

The Draught of Living Death was perfectly brewed, even better than Hermione’s, which may have been because Ron had been forced to partner with Hermione after Harry had allowed Tom to partner with himself.

“It’s not actually that difficult,” Tom said. “You just have to follow the directions, and be careful.”

“I am, usually,” Harry said. He looked at Tom for the first time since Tom had sat next to him, offering a timid smile. Merlin, he really had perfect eyes, a pretty shade of brown that turned into pools of honey when the light hit them right. “You’re just a very good partner.”

“Thank you,” Tom said, smiling back.

Harry looked away quickly, before Tom could see the blush dusting his cheeks.

“Would you mind greatly if I sat next to you again sometime in the future?” Tom asked. “I don’t want to be a bother, but my usual partner seems to be avoiding me as of late.”

“It’s not a problem,” Harry said.  _ Not at all. Please sit next to me again. Please be with me forever. _

“Good,” Tom said, and took the vials from Harry’s hands. Harry shivered at the skin contact, even though it was barely a feather’s touch. “I can bring these up to the front if you can clean up.”

“Right,” Harry said. His voice cracked slightly, and he winced in embarrassment. He cleared his throat. “I can do that.”

Harry found that he almost fell over, what with how weak-kneed Tom made Harry. While he was cleaning up the remnants of the potion ingredients and cleaning out their cauldron, he thought about his plans to spread the word of his soulmark to Tom. Perhaps it would be easier to tell him… but no. Tom had just spoken to Harry, willingly, had initiated contact himself. Harry didn’t want to chase him away.

Harry would continue with his plan to tell Lavender, and let the rumours spread like wildfire. After some time, maybe it would reach Tom naturally.

Yes, that was probably for the best.

* * *

Tom arrived in the Great Hall very early, before even Hermione. Likely before 7:30AM.

Tom sat at different places at the Slytherin table, next to different students, who never met his eye. He no longer sat next to Rodolphus Lestrange.

Tom never seemed to eat. Perhaps he ate before the rest of the students arrived in the Great Hall.

Tom had Transfiguration, Potions, and Charms with the Gryffindors.

Tom had DADA and Herbology with the Ravenclaws. Tom had Ancient Runes and Arithmancy with whoever was in those unpopular classes.

Tom had lunch during the first lunch block on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. He had lunch during the second block on Tuesday. He had lunch with Professor Slughorn on Thursday.

Tom spent most of his time at the library, surrounded by the Knights of Walpurgis, studying. He rarely seemed to be in the Slytherin common room.

Tom patrolled the halls every night, even though the Head Boy and Head Girl were supposed to alternate shifts.

Tom spent his weekends at Hogsmeade or in the Slytherin dormitory. He occasionally left the premises entirely, during which he disappeared completely. Not even the Knights seemed to know where he went.

Harry hadn’t necessarily  _ meant _ to learn Tom’s schedule. Ever since Remus had confiscated the Marauder's Map, Harry’d had to learn his schedule in order to avoid him when spreading his carefully planned rumours. He briefly considered casting a tracking charm on one of his quills, but decided that Tom likely would be able to tell, and then he would become wary, and never trust Harry, ever.

It was rather irritating that Harry had to avoid him in order to be able to some day approach him, but Harry could live with it. It was worth it.

In early winter, Harry set his plans into motion. Tom had sat next to him another four times, during which he and Harry exchanged quiet, friendly chats. On the third day, Tom had come to class and pulled out the eagle-feather quill Harry had bought him, to Harry’s delight. Still, it was too slow for Harry. He and Tom were going to graduate that year, after all; he wouldn’t be able to stand it if they parted ways as mere friends.

So Harry found himself conveniently out and about past curfew, right on the route that he knew Lavender took.

“Harry!”

Lavender was frowning disapprovingly. “What are you doing out in the corridors at this hour?”

“I was going to the kitchens,” Harry lied. “I was hungry.”

Lavender looked unconvinced. “You could have simply called on a house elf. I’m sorry, Harry, but I’m going to have to give you a detention and walk you back to the dorms.”

Harry hoped his expression was suitably troubled. It would certainly make Lavender suspicious if Harry were to smile.

“I lied, actually,” Harry said. “I was going to the library. I wanted to find a book about soulmarks.”

Lavender immediately perked up.

“Soulmarks? Why? Have you got one?”

“I do have one,” Harry said. “I wanted to find a book that could tell me a bit more about what it means. You know, so that I could figure out who it belongs to.”

“Ooh, I  _ love _ soulmark analysis,” Lavender said. “I don’t have one, you see, but I’ve always thought they were very romantic.”

Harry already knew that. “Really? Do you think you could tell me about mine?”

“Your soulmark? You would really let me see it?” Lavender’s eyes nearly popped out of her skull. “Isn’t that really private?”

“Well, it’s not like my soulmate would be able to see it until we… you know,” Harry said, and blushed despite himself. Everyone knew that soulmates couldn’t see each others marks until they had sex. “I’ve never understood why they were private.”

“I'd be happy to give it a look... only if you’re sure,” Lavender said, as if she weren’t ravenously curious.

* * *

“Did you hear the rumour that’s been going around?”

Tom didn’t look up from the essay he was writing. “No. You know I don’t care much for rumours.”

“You might care able this one,” Abraxas said. “It’s about Potter’s soulmark.”

Tom knocked over his ink, spilling it all over his parchment. Cursing, Tom quickly vanished the mess and turned to look at Abraxas impatiently. “Well, what is it?”

“Potter’s soulmark is a snake inside a skull,” Abraxas said. If he were less dignified, Tom would’ve gasped.

Nobody knew about the Dark Mark yet. Not even the Knights. Tom had yet to introduce them to the concept. At the moment, only he had the tattoo on his forearm, and as of yet, it wasn’t functioning the way Tom hoped it would. Still, there should be no way that Harry knew about it.

This couldn’t possibly be a coincidence.

“How do you know?”

“Apparently he showed it to Lavender Brown,” Abraxas said. “Brown was unable to keep her mouth shut about it, of course.”

Tom smiled widely. This was better than he’d hoped. After nearly a month of talking to him, Tom hadn’t gotten any closer to figuring out what Harry’s soulmark was, and now he had a very good idea of it. Lavender was prone to spreading rumours with barely a grain of truth, but there was always  _ something _ at the core that was honest, and this was too specific, too unique.

“Fantastic,” Tom said. “Merlin, it’s me.”

“So are you finally going to tell Potter that you have his, then?” Abraxas asked.

Tom pondered this. “I suppose I will. The Christmas holidays are fast approaching, after all.”

“I’m surprised you can stand to wait that long.”

“I don’t want anyone to interrupt,” Tom said pompously.

Abraxas rolled his eyes. It was a right miracle that Tom and Potter had managed to orbit around each other without crashing head-on for so long. It was obvious that Potter had told Brown about his soulmark because he  _ wanted _ Tom to know. Nobody told Brown anything unless they were thick, or wanted specific information to be spread. Potter may not be unobservant, but he wasn’t impossibly stupid.

Abraxas just wished the two of them would stop dancing around each other. People were starting to get badly hurt. Tom had already nearly killed a Slytherin girl who’d tried to ask Potter to the Christmas ball. He hadn’t, but the poor girl had been quite traumatized by the incident.

Even Abraxas had started getting dirty looks from Potter. He very much didn’t want to get cursed, thank you very much.

———-

Christmas holidays were always Tom’s favourite time of the year. The castle would empty out as students went home, or to their friends’ houses. It meant that Tom had the most peace and quiet in his entire life.

It also meant that Tom got to sit at the same table as Harry. In 7 years, Harry had never gone home for Christmas, which meant that Tom got to sit at the merged table with him. He usually sat with other Gryffindors, but since they’d be talking— or rather, Tom had been talking to Harry, and Harry smiled and offered the occasional quips.

As a gift, Tom had gotten Harry a statue. It was a pretty silver stag that pawed at the ground and reared its head proudly. It had cost him quite a lot. Actually, it had cost Abraxas quite a lot, but Abraxas had been unable to refuse Tom.

Tom looked at the silver snake that he’d also ordered. One day, hopefully soon, the snake would be added to the statue, curling around the horns, so that the statue was a true representation of Tom’s soulmark.

Until then, Tom would wear it privately, comforted by the knowledge that it was there.

As expected, the Great Hall was mostly empty. There were at most fifty students, all seated at the same enormous table that replaced the four House tables. To Tom’s delight, Harry was sitting along, slightly away from the rest of the students. Tom walked over to him.

“Can I sit here?”

Harry no longer flinched when he heard Tom. Instead he nodded and slid over, making more room for Tom. Tom privately wished he wouldn’t, that Tom would have to sit close to him, feel the warmth radiating off his body.

Alas.

“Do you enjoy the holidays?” Tom asked. “You’ve never gone home for them.”

Tom wondered whether that was an odd thing to know.

If it was, Harry didn’t comment on it.

“I don’t like my home,” Harry said. “And I don’t want to burden Ron. We aren’t  _ that _ close, you see, and he’s got lots of siblings. It can get…”

“Overwhelming?”

“Exactly.” Harry smiled gratefully. Tom drank in the sight, memorizing the creases around his mouth, the brightness of his teeth, the sparkle in his eyes. He was quite the vision. Tom was determined that before the end of the holidays, he and Harry would finally be together.

“I also don’t like my home,” Tom confided. It felt odd to say so out loud so easily, when Tom normally kept this a close secret. “I wish I could stay at Hogwarts all year.”

“Me too.”

Another point of commonality. Tom truly was in love.

* * *

Christmas morning was disappointing. Harry had received presents from Ron, Hermione, Ms. Weasley, and Hagrid, all of which were pleasant and thoughtful, but he hadn’t received anything from Tom.

Maybe Harry had been deluding himself when he’d thought that he and Tom were finally close enough that they were within the realm of gift-giving. It would be pathetically in character.

In an attempt to fend off his rather crushing disappointment, Harry decided to go for a walk outside, across the field to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Snow fell gently from the sky, giving the forest an uncommonly peaceful atmosphere. Harry found himself drifting away from his thoughts, absorbed in the quiet tranquility of the wintry day.

“Harry.”

Harry started. When he turned around, he almost fainted on the spot, when he came face to face with Tom Riddle himself, standing behind Harry with his hands in his pockets. Tom’s face was pink with cold. It was overwhelmingly endearing.

As it was, Harry felt himself get very light-headed. He had a second to turn pale with horror before he found himself swaying sideways, his muscles moving slowly, too slowly to catch him before he fell. Instead, Tom caught his, his hands shooting out to grasp Harry, keeping him mostly upright. Instead of collapsing sideways into a snowbank, he fell forwards.

Directly into Tom’s chest.

Harry felt like his face had caught fire. He was sure he looked like it too, and had half a mind to bury his face in Tom’s green-and-silver scarf, and hide his face forever.

Instead, he recoiled back immediately, hurrying to regain his balance before Tom noticed Harry’s intense blush. He was pretty sure it didn’t work; his face felt equally inflamed.

“Tom,” Harry said. “What are you… I mean, hello.”

“Hi,” Tom said, and his little curved smile sent pangs through Harry’s chest. Merlin, he was so in love with the older boy, it was almost embarrassing. “I was looking for you.”

“Me?” Harry asked. “Why?”

“Because I wanted to,” Tom replied. “I wanted to thank you for my Christmas present. It was very thoughtful of you.”

From his pocket, Tom fished out the wristwatch Harry had bought him, a pretty ceramic thing with scales carved into the band, an ouroboros wrapping around the face. 

“Oh,” Harry said, staring at the watch. “Yes, I did.”

“I like it,” Tom said, and Harry’s heart practically soared. So he  _ wasn’t _ out of line for getting Tom a gift.

“Great,” Harry said. “Thank you. I mean, you’re welcome. I mean, I’m glad you like it.”

“The snake looks very much like Nagini,” Tom continued. “Though she would never be foolish enough to attempt to devour her own tail.”

“Er… yeah, I saw it in a store,” Harry lied. He hadn’t. He’d had it specifically made, over the course of several days, and had paid a pretty penny for it.

Surely Harry had projected the flash of disappointment that came and went from Tom’s (extremely handsome) face.

“I had hoped to find you in the Great Hall, but you were absent this morning,” Tom said. “I cast a tracking charm to find you, I hope you don’t find that an invasion of your privacy.”

Harry immediately shook his head. “Of course not.”

Tom’s smile was heart wrenching. “I wanted to give you my gift in person,” Tom said, and in his hands appeared a medium-sized box, wrapped in red and gold paper, tied neatly with a velvet bow.

Oh.

Harry was definitely feeling lightheaded again.

“A gift? For me?”

“I hadn’t been sure if we were at that stage yet,” Tom explained. “I figured since you sent me one, I was free to give you one in return.”

That was… definitely in line with what a Slytherin would do. With trembling hands, Harry reached out and took the box from Tom. It was quite heavy. Harry wondered how Tom’s arms weren’t tired from holding it.

“Should I open it here?”

“If you’d like.”

Harry tried not to seem too eager as he ripped the wrapping paper off. Sliding out the glass box inside, Harry laid eyes upon a silver statue, a near-perfect replication of his Patronus. Harry’s mouth fell open.

“This is beautiful,” Harry said. When he looked up, Tom was watching him intently, eyes boring into Harry’s. “How…?”

For the first time, Tom seemed to struggle for words, until he let out a slow exhale.

“It’s a copy of my soulmark,” Tom said.

* * *

Harry seemed frozen. He wasn’t blinking, was barely breathing, by the looks of it. Tom could hear his heartbeat rushing in his ears.

“Are you sure?” Harry asked. Tom nodded, relieved that Harry wasn’t reacting negatively. No reaction was better than rejection. At least this way, Tom wouldn’t have to Obliviate him and try again at a later date.

“Does yours look like this?”

Breath in his throat, Tom pulled up his sleeve to reveal the inked tattoo on his forearm that he’d gotten the year before. He’d managed to get the snake to move, though, like Nagini herself, it didn’t like to very much, preferring to stay coiled up and still.

Harry’s eyes widened. He almost dropped the statue in his hands and fumbled to catch it before it fell to the ground.

“Yes,” Harry whispered, his eyes flicking to his own wrist, where Tom was sure Harry’s soulmark lay, hidden from him. For now.

“Mine looks like that,” Tom said, nodding at the statue, “But with a snake in the antlers.”

Harry still didn’t seem to have processed the past minute. Tom hoped that he hadn’t accidentally short-circuited his soulmate’s brain; that would be an awfully embarrassing story to retell. Perhaps Tom should have waited… no, he would have gone decidedly crazy if he’d had to wait any longer, watching people flirt with Harry endlessly.

“Are you okay, Harry?” Tom finally asked, his anxiety growing with each passing second. Harry shook his head, as if he were dazed.

“I’m more than okay,” he finally said, and Tom’s face split into a wide grin. Hopefully nobody other than Harry was watching; after all, Tom had a reputation to uphold.

“Good,” Tom said, and thankfully, his voice wasn’t shaking as hard as his hands were. “Because I was really hoping to ask you to be my boyfriend, and I don’t know what would have happened if you passed out.”


End file.
